The sky darkened, and Maz watched from the dome window in his chamber. He had extinguished the lights. Maybe now they wouldn’t see him. Little by little, the darkness broke as each new ship descended. A few landed in the square. Others descended in the distance.
Each ship had a section in one side that unsealed. Creatures clad in black jumpsuits planted their feet on the ground, assault weapons in hand. Nessa gulped. They colored the square. Their skin was purple, blue, or green.
“My kind,” she muttered.
The creatures dispersed.
“Go into the domiciles,” one commanded into his implant. “Kill only if they resist.”
Maz scurried under his sleeping pod. Nessa glanced at Jamison through the corner of her eye.
“Where did we come from?” She asked. “My kind. Where did we come from?”
Jamison gave an initial response of a shrug, then added, “No one knows - just you were not, and then you were.”
Nessa watched through wide, glassy eyes. Maz trembled under his sleeping pod. He moved toward the center of his hiding place as--with a buzzing sound that echoed--the silence of his dome gave way to sounds of the outdoors.
“Vacate the domicile,” someone’s voice took an electronic tone as it reverberated into an amplifier funnel.
Maz held his breath. It sounded like drum beats against the metal tile.
They had crossed the front doorway.
“Is anyone home?” The intruder demanded into his amp funnel.
The drumbeat-like noises were surrounded by an echo, and they increased in volume and intensity. Jamison’s throat felt icy.
Nessa felt her own neck. There was an icy blast inside it, but then warmth flooded it.
“It’s an empathic connection,” Jamison said, “not just telepathy.”
“You’re not a kid,” she concluded. “Or are you?”
Jamison met her deductive reasoning with a light silence. Nessa settled in, and watched the rest unfold.
Maz inched away from a hand that waved under his sleeping pod. He bumped into something as he scooted. It moved. A Purple stood up holding a thrashing Maz in her arms.
“We got him,” she announced to the other, a Green. “No one else is here. Ace might already have them. We’ll take this one to our ship.”
The creature clapped her hand over Maz’s mouth, and he grunted under her grasp. The hallway sped past. Then the living lounge. Then the entry.
“What’s the plan?” The Green questioned.
“We let the older ones take our ships. No reason to kill them unless they come back here.”
The Green looked upside down at Maz, and gave him a grin that made Maz--and Nessa--feel nauseated.
“And this one?” He asked as he stood upright.
“We’ll send him to Earth. They’re friendly. A caretaker will find him, so no chance he’ll find his way back here.”
The Purple stopped at the side of the ship, and hurled him through the opening. His body sank into a structure of cushion. He gathered himself and peered through the opening.
Two pairs of gray eyes found him, and his eyes locked with theirs.
“Mama!” He cried. “Papa!”
The opening sealed.
The tunnel and Lenn City faded and gave way to the holding unit and the chamber outside.
“The elder race was scattered across the galaxies,” he said. “I’m one of the only surviving ones. Far as I know. In answer to your question: I’m not 9. I’m 500.”